


fingers against lips, fingers against wrists

by artlessICTOAN



Series: Femslash Week 2018 [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Karin could be read as asexual in this, Naruto Femslash Week 2018, Self-Harm, and she's definitely hypersexual, maybe both, since they aren't mutually exclusive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artlessICTOAN/pseuds/artlessICTOAN
Summary: Her breaths are short and rapid, but they bring with them the soft floral perfume that Sakura wears and that covers the smells conjured up by her mind, of blood and sweat and piss and bitter medicine. She drinks in that comforting, familiar scent, wishing it could fill her from the inside out.“This isn’t a failure on your part Karin, I know how hard you’ve been working to stop this and I’m proud of you – I’llalwaysbe proud of you – this is not your fault, I promise you.”





	fingers against lips, fingers against wrists

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for femslash week (prompt was grief/memory) but it falls outside the rules for the event, i'm proud of what i wrote so i'm posting anyway but it's not part of the actual week. this one got _heavy_ , so tw for self-harm and heavily implied sexual abuse (about as implied as in that Karin backstory episode in the anime which… was pretty unambiguous as far as i’m concerned), please keep yourselves safe first and foremost!

\---

Water trickles down her body, it pools in the hollows of her collar, in the crease of her elbows, turns cold as it drips down her face, pulls her long hair down as it hammers against the back of her head. She can’t see clearly without her glasses and the water muffles her senses, so she can almost pretend she’s in her own little cocoon, just her hunched over sitting on the floor of the shower, curtain of deep, dark red hiding her from the world.

She’d long since stopped feeling comfortable, but that was alright, that was _good_ , she didn’t want to feel comfortable, didn’t _deserve_ it.

Even with her vision blurry and focus shifting in and out, eyes caught between foreground and background, unable to choose a target, leaving her floating in a space not-quite-here and not-quite-there. She can see the scars though, she can _always_ see the scars, even when she can’t actually _see_.

The bumps against her skin were shallow, she could barely feel them as she ran fingers across scarred thighs. Growling, she presses harder, searching out the marks she knew were there, she bends forwards, until her _useless_ eyes can see them properly, she traces a line of dotted red, feels the bluntness of teeth digging in, pulling at her flesh, the stroke of slick tongue that makes her shudder. She can’t _feel_ the scar though, even though she _can_ , in a different way and it _burns_ and she digs a nail into the tiny tooth-marks – dark and red and ugly against brown skin – digs until she can feel the bumps, digs until water pools pink on the shower floor, until she can feel a different burn, a real one that she can rationalise and tolerate.

She senses the presence hovering in the hallway long before the gentle tapping against the door starts, but the noise still makes her jump, head snapping up to scowl blearily at the lights and shadows of the bathroom, her fingers still scratch though, just to cover those _other_ feelings. “Karin? Are you alright? You’ve been in there for almost two hours…”

Jamming the heels of her hands harshly into her eyes, she shakes her head and sucks in a shaky breath.

“Sweetie…” Sakura sighs so softly that she can’t actually hear her, but she knows it’s there, just as she knows what would be said next, seconds before the words filter through the thin walls; “I can leave if you really want, but I just need to know you’re safe first, please, can I come in?”

Water trickles into her mouth as soon as she opens it, suddenly she is aware of how dry it had become. “I’m fine,” she mumbles, voice rough, rough like the hands clamping down on her shoulders as teeth sink into her chest. Nails raking at her skin, she growls at the aura still lingering outside, lively and clear and warm – like those perfect spring days Konoha seemed to hoard for itself, hot sunlight tempered by the cool breeze – the only sharp thing left for her fuzzy senses to cling to.

That aura burns her too, so she hisses and picks up the nearest bottle and hurls it at the line of grey where the white door meets the white walls and she _screams_. “Go away!”

“Only after I see you. Please, Karin?”

She wants to laugh, so she does, breathless and harsh barks that rip at her dry throat on their way out; Sakura has always been stubborn, it’s what she loves about her, and what she hates. She won’t enter without explicit permission, but she won’t leave either, no matter how long Karin refuses her – she knows she will, it’s not the first time they’ve found themselves here.

Still, she waits long enough to gouge another small dip into her leg before speaking, “…I’m bleeding, it’s only minor.”

“That’s still too much bleeding!” Is that a laugh of exasperation, or relief? Who knows, either way it brings a tiny, brief smirk to her own face too. “Can I please come in? If only to heal you.” She doesn’t have to, Karin could heal herself with ease if she wanted, except the thought of teeth against skin makes her entire body convulse, attempting to turn itself inside out so she could bury the skin-memories deep, deep inside of her.

It hurts to tell Sakura to come in, hurts to see the slow, cautious movements she makes, hurts to see the hurt in her sharp, green eyes; clear like her aura, whether Karin has her glasses or not.

She hisses when she sees the blood mixing with the water, even though it’s barely anything – _really_ , it is, they’re shinobi, they get worse wounds from training – immediately turning off the water and pulling heavy, saturated hair out of her face. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you fucking think?”

Why does she always have to be so resentful? Why can’t she just let the woman she loves help her like a _good_ girlfriend would? Why does she have to _need_ help in the first place?

Sakura doesn’t look offended, just accepting, which is almost worse. “Do you know what happened to make you hurt? Was there a trigger, or pent up feelings?” She breaks eye-contact to examine her body.

Karin shivers under the attention, hating the part of herself urging her to act on the expectations she has for two people being naked alone together; _she has control_ , her therapists’ voice echoes in her head, _she does not have to do anything she does not want to, her body is her own, Sakura expects nothing from her, certainly not right now, she is worth more than her body, Sakura loves her_ -

“Dunno,” she finally chokes out, concentrating on the cool, professional touch of her girlfriend’s hand against the messy scratches dotting her legs and chest, hand only lingering for as long as it takes skin to weave itself back together.

Her answer is accepted with a simple nod, but she knows that it’s not enough, because she doesn’t want to keep doing this, hiding away in the bathroom while Sakura frets in the hallway, hurting herself because it’s so much easier than trying to heal. She inhales shakily, fists clenching into tight balls against the smooth, plastic floor. “I… I’m sick of _remembering_ it like this. Every time I look down at myself, every scar, I think I’ve blocked everything out, but suddenly I’m there again and I can remember their _faces, hands, teeth_ -”

She wasn’t sure if she fell into Sakura’s arms, or if she was pulled into them, but either way she was grateful for the warm, solid body to lean against, and the strong hands that rubbed slowly up and down her back, supporting, calming, but not trapping; if she needed to escape she could.

“This isn’t a failure on your part Karin, I know how hard you’ve been working to stop this and I’m proud of you – I’ll _always_ be proud of you – this _is not_ your fault, I promise you.”

Her breaths are short and rapid, but they bring with them the soft floral perfume that Sakura wears and that covers the smells conjured up by her mind, of blood and sweat and piss and bitter medicine. She drinks in that comforting, familiar scent, wishing it could fill her from the inside out.

She isn’t sure how long they spend link that, time is already hazy for her, at once rushing so fast it leaves her with whiplash and dragging and clawing at her ankles. It’s only when the body she clings to like a child shifts and distance is put between them that she blinks back into the present. “Where are you-”

“I’m getting a towel, don’t worry, I’m not leaving you.” Sakura smiles down at her as she leans away, keeping one hand always entwined with hers, even as she strains for the fabric hanging over the radiator. Once retrieved, it is immediately dropped across her shoulders, heavy and boiling against her suddenly-freezing skin – how had she not noticed how cold she’d gotten? Rubbing gently through the towel, Sakura smiles at her and asks, “Is it ok if I pick you up?”

If she speaks, she might accidentally release that light, honey-sweet perfume she’d so carefully sucked up, so she just nods, holding the warm towel around herself as she’s effortlessly lifted into strong arms. She has to squeeze her legs in as they awkwardly shuffle through the doorway, mutual snickers escaping them as they do so, then again at they make their way into their bedroom, before she’s carefully placed down on the mattress. Sakura circles around her, fingers always brushing her skin, even when she disappears from her sight, only the fumbling of plastic and muttered curse to let her know what was happening.

A gentle hand strokes through her still-wet hair, pulling it all onto her back as the hairdryer is turned on to its lowest setting and heat filters through her soft cocoon.

Karin closes her eyes and focuses on the sensations, the fluffy blankets that Sakura insists upon smothering the bed with, hot air against the back of her neck, the occasional tug of fingers catching on a tangle, single drops of water escaping down her temples, the slightly frayed towel threads wrapped between her fidgeting fingers, bony knees resting at the small of her back.

Like this, she can almost pretend there was never anything wrong, that she’d just had a bad dream.

Giving her hair one final comb, Sakura turns off the drier and shuffles around until they sit face-to-face. “How do you feel?” she asks; her smile is tired, and slight sad.

“…Not good,” she admits, leaning forwards to rest her forehead against her girlfriend’s broad shoulder, “but better. I still want to cry though.”

“Then cry.”

She does. They stay like this for a long time, slowly breathing each other in, Sakura rubbing small circles into her back, Karin muffling her sobs in Sakura’s thick jumper, still damp from where she’d held her in the shower.

“Do…” Sakura’s voice is quiet and trails off before it even really starts. Only when she lifts her head to give her a questioning look does she continue her thought. “Do you mind if I try something? Something with the scars?”

Karin cautiously leans back, sucking her lips between her teeth and stare into her girlfriend’s eyes. It’s not that she doesn’t trust her – she absolutely does – it’s just that she’s always been sensitive about them. Even with the woman she loves more than anyone else, sometimes when Sakura’s lips trail too far down her body as they kiss, touch too close to an old memory, even as gentle and loving as Sakura is, she has to push her away.

But… Sakura knows that and she always respects it.

Mumbling a soft, “Ok,” Karin pulls her towel firmly around herself and holds out one arm enough to reveal the bites around her wrist.

She watches as Sakura presses two fingers to her own lips, a soft, smiling kiss laid on them, before gently tapping them upon the nearest scar. Karin blinks down at her wrist; the spot still just a little warm and tingly – had she added a little of her own chakra to the kiss?

When she finally looks up, Sakura’s blushing and holding her hands tightly between her thighs. “I can’t promise it’ll erase the memories… but maybe we can create new ones instead.”

Smiling, Karin nuzzles back into her girlfriend’s body, offering patches of scarred skin and Sakura kisses the grief away.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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